


When a cold heart thaws

by whenmelvinacries



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bitter Momo, Drabble, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-23 19:52:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8340523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenmelvinacries/pseuds/whenmelvinacries
Summary: I'm not sure if I'll continue writing this, but if I do, it'll be a bit sporadic. Cheesy title, I know.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if I'll continue writing this, but if I do, it'll be a bit sporadic. Cheesy title, I know.

Puffs of smoke permeated the air, filling the emptiness of the room and of her heart. It was the only escape she had in the day, otherwise having to play a part in that distorted thing that was her existence.

  
He wanted her to be a perfect little thing for the cameras and her classmates, but she didn't give enough if a fuck to actually try to appeal to no one. Regardless, people still admired her. 'She has a mysterious aura around her,' they would say, and annoyingly would try to get close to her.

  
It was just this little group of people. Trainees to become singers. Blegh.

They would look at her, not like other people, who probably questioned why would a big businessman's protegè was in an art school, but rather looked at her as someone they wanted to get to know. It was endearing.

She didn't mind their presence much. Rejected their food at lunch with an 'I'm not used to eating at this hour, thanks', excused herself at extracurricular trips they had at different parts of the city, and smiled slightly at their jokes and banter, which at first, she had to admit, felt a inane and somehow idiotic.

It was not her fault. Always surrounded by not-so-nice people, she knew better than to expect anything from anyone, even less when she was what she was. A whore. Oh, and the deep embarrassment she felt when one of them tried to fit a banana up her nostril.

Still, they rewarded her with kindness and neverending cheerfulness, despite the difficulties they had to endure. Though, honestly, they were different.

It was nothing she could help. She had to smile and pretend she liked being with them, or with anyone for the matter. She had to go to galas in pompous dresses that would seamlessly cover the ugly parts of her. It was her duty to cover the inward ugly parts.

At night she could barely get a wink of sleep. She didn't care. After all, this had been happening for a long time, even when she sold herself, and in the middle of the night, she would take the arms of the man who slept tiredly at her side away, and would tiptoe to her only solace, the knowledge she had never received as a child.

The understanding came easy to her. Genius, that's how she was branded after she left with her now mentor. A prodigy child, who could nonetheless, when trained, bring a business to its highest glory. She knew she was intelligent before that. I mean, what kind of 14 year old would know how to play a different character with every client she met? A young seductress, a timid virgin, a grateful damsel in distress, a teary woman who hurt. All of them, and more, seemed to come easy for her.

She liked to ignore how the last seemed to call to her past self, who had cried until she could no more, and screamed until she felt she was dead on the inside, empty from any kind of emotion that her young self should've had the right to experience. But no, she never had the right to it. She was just like her mother.

And in between puffs of smoke, she continued thinking that maybe her life would never change, and it would only amount to what she herself had expected for a long time. In her hands was her phone, on the screen a text that left her with a warmth she had never felt.

'Want to go to the amusement park?'


	2. Chapter 2

She had wanted to reject it at once, as she had done multiple times before. Never do they seemed to get tired of that fucking place. Today, although she had given the excuse of having classes with her private tutor, they had knocked on her apartment door, and, with innocent smiles, had asked her tutor to let her go have a good jolly time with them.

  
The idiot was swayed by them.

  
Now Momo had to pretend she didn't want to make a sour expression, as if she was being shoved a bag of lemons up her throat. It was definitely one of the biggest challenges of her life.

  
Just looking at the wooden entrance painted with neon colors made her cringe. And when entering the premises, they screams and laughter she heard combined together, forming a bubble of discomfort in the pit of her stomach.

  
They rode several things while she took care of their stuff, citing fear of heights as her reason to not involve herself with such inane shit. It gained her a round of mocking that'll probably last until she leaves them.

  
Somehow that last thought made her stomach drop. Perhaps she was having heartburn again.

  
It wasn't all taking care of purses and evading to look at her surroundings. To Momo's disappointment, Dahyun suggested for the group to play carnival games, which earned her more teasing.

  
Knocking some bottles with a ball. Simple... Except when it wasn't. Nothing in all her years of independence (and 1 of robbery) had prepared her for this kind of thing.

  
She gave it three shots before passing the ball onto Jungyeon and walking behind the group, knowing that they perhaps would still be interested in the cheap prizes. Like the plushie Sana was looking at longingly.

  
They left without unfunfilled goals of getting prizes, but that didn't deter Sana's cheerfulness, linking arms with her and pointing to the old-fashioned (as far as 80's movies ever told Momo) 'Tunnel of Love'.

  
"It's a calm ride that Momo can ride."

  
More jokes ensued.

  
In the end, they rode the damn thing. And it wasn't as bad as she thought it would be. In fact, the macabre tone the blues rhythm gave to the already dark ride made her feel more at ease. After all, it could be seen as a reminder that below the cheesy and fun exterior, there was always something lurking down below. She knew that wasn't the intended effect the ride wanted you to have, though.

  
It made her feel calm, and in gratitude, she went back and won Sana that plushie.

  
At night, when she was alone, a huge gulp of emotion stuck to her throat. She could not understand why the stupid trip brought her to tears.


	3. Chapter 3

Momo had never believed in love.

Taken under the wing of some men, a few years ago, she had started her business (heh) quickly, convinced that robbery wouldn't put bread on the figurative table for longer.

They were brutes, idiots that were looking to sate their necessities, and Momo, under their protection, wouldn't deny them of such satisfaction. Not that she would try.

It was always the same. As soon as it was over, they left, ashamed perhaps of their uncontrollable desires. She snorted at the thought.

Love was never in the equation. Maybe an 'I love you' said the heat of the moment, one or two clients that would stay the rest of the night, but never more.

Movies always talked about such bullshit Momo could only mirthlessly chuckle at the naivety of the people that watched them almost religiously, such as Sana, who at the moment stood in front of her, having just confessed to her.

It hadn't been long since they had been having study sessions at the library. At Nayeon's prompt, she, reluctantly, offered her help to her failing friend.

The clock ticked and the days went by, never had Sana given any hint to today's happenings.

The answer was clear, although her words resounded in her head. Love wasn't real, that she knew.

However, it puzzled her greatly when she instead leaned in to give Sana a kiss.


	4. Chapter 4

Despite her knowledge about the less savory part of the world, she had never had to experience something such as this.

When she sold herself, a time that now seemed far away, knowing how people worked seemed easy. Her clients, in the throes of desire were usually easy to satisfy. Her 'boss', when given his share of the money and their occasional nights together, was easy to please. Even that bastard, when he... 

He was easy to please.

A particular client always came to mind when thinking about love. He always left, next to the copious amounts of money, a small note professing his undying love for her, promising the stars and the moon if she went to live with him.

She wasn't stupid. Everything came with a price. True enough, she woke up from one of her small naps, her boys fighting him off. He was screaming crazy shit that Momo didn't particularly care to remember. What she did remember, though, was that they had told her he was screaming what he wanted to do to her.

In the end, everything amounted to sex.

Thus, after kissing Sana, and indirectly accepting her confession, she had recurred to what she thought Sana wanted. It wasn't a reach, since the girl had become clingier towards her ever since.  
And she didn't mind. The blonde had been the most tolerable of the bunch, always looking for her even though Momo didn't need any care, easily sensing when she was getting impatient or irked, calming her with few cheerful words. If she desired her body, that was fine with Momo. It could be a trade-off of some sorts.

She never had had to deal with girls, though, so she knew nothing of what exactly did they want. Libido and her name never came into a sentence unless there was a negation of some form, so she couldn't use herself as an example.

Thus, she hinted at it, expecting Sana to respond. A kiss on the mouth when they first saw each other in the morning. Rubbing her arm and/or leg when studying together. Hugging her tight when Sana went on a diatribe as they lay on the girls' dorm's couch. Hinting at it with words, making the blonde blush to the tip of her ears (and if she had to be honest, that coyness was cute).

It confused the brunette when she would barely receive any response in exchange, but would feel Sana's body shiver, the little hairs of her arms and legs standing rigid.

Still, she didn't back down, slowly wearing down the blonde's defenses...

Or so it seemed.

Momo was rubbing up and down Sana's leg as they laid in the latter's bed. There was the same bodily response, but Sana did the complete opposite of what her body relayed to Momo. Grabbing her arm that rubbed her leg, she turned around to face her, putting the arm now to hug her by the waist.

"This is fine," she explained with a affectionate smile, as if the brunette was supposed to understand, and snuggled into her chest.

Momo really couldn't understand her.


	5. Jeongyeon

Momo gave a long drag, breathing the smoke out slowly. She probably shouldn't be doing it in the balcony of her apartment since anyone from the same floor could see her if they came out, but she didn't care.

It had been Jungyeon's idea, to have the girls come do their project here, and it stressed her out to no end. They were coming to her apartment to do god knows what (she was sure the project was the last thing they had on their minds when they all agreed hurriedly to force Momo to be the host for their project), and she was barely prepared for it.

Not only that, but Jungyeon had invited herself an hour before the rest of the group to take a shower. Supposedly, her house was too far away to go there and then come back to Momo's apartment.

She had to put out her cigarrette to meet her, but decided not to hide the ashtray that rested on the coffee table.

Jungyeon came in almost right away rambling about some shit their coach had done or said. Momo didn't pay much attention to the former's voice, until she heard,

"Wow, is this your room? It looks so empty."

Almost like my inane existence.

"Yeah, so?"

"Oh, nothing." But it wasn't nothing, as Jungyeon looked around her room, as if searching for something in it, jumping a little and muttering a one-worded response when Momo pointed her to the bathroom.

The "nothing" Jungyeon had referred to didn't become a topic of conversation until both were sitting down on the couch, the tv turned on some bullshit Momo didn't care to know about.

"So... you didn't bring anything here from back home?" the short-haired girl asked tentatively.

"No," Momo answered categorically, wanting the conversation to be over, but the other girl could be persistent, so much so that Momo tended to avoid her the most.

"Really? Not even your family's picture?"

"Why would I need a printed picture of them?" Jungyeon seemed to hesitate, and Momo held on a smirk, knowing that the other girl was constricted by the niceties she needed to have with her host, else she would appear rude.

And Momo was right. Why would she need a picture — printed or otherwise — of her fucked up mother and bastard of a father? The only picture she wanted was safely guarded in a drawer of her desk, and it certainly contained neither of them.

"Don't you feel homesick sometimes?" Another careful question thrown her way, which could be answered by, you need to have a home to have homesickness, but instead was responded nonchalantly with,

"Not as much as you would expect, I suppose." 

Jungyeon nodded, adding after a moment of silence, "It's cool, you know, that you can get away from your family for a while. Wish I could do that." The girl waited for an answer, but when she didn't get it, she continued, "these days all I hear is their nagging. Why are you still chasing childish dreams? Why can't you be like your sister? Are you even being considered to debut? You should be concentrating on your studies. It makes me sick."

Why are you telling me this? Momo itched to ask, but decided not to, instead letting the television noise fill the silence between them that never dissipated, until the rest of the girls arrived, knocking loudly on her door.

Surprisingly, Jungyeon was up first, letting out a sigh as she grabbed the ashtray, hiding it outside in the balcony. Momo was startled, but not enough to not open her pad's door, letting the rest of the girls in and giving her girlfriend a customary kiss on the lips, this time, lingering more than normal.

She was right, the last thing they were thinking of when they invited themselves to her apartment was about the project itself. Sure, they had brought the materials they needed, and they innocently sprayed them on the coffee table where the ashtray had been, but that's it. All of their time was filled with conversation, either with whatever they had done in their day, some jokes that Momo swore were still unfunny, and remarks about her apartment, which she made a point not to answer, unless it was a safe enough remark.

They decided to order noodles to quench their hunger caused by their hard, hard work. Momo didn't object, although she didn't feel hungry at all.

The objection appeared in her brain when she saw the shit ton of food they had ordered, as if they were about to finish it all up. Her stomach churned when a bowl of black bean noodles were placed in front of her.

They weren't satisfied when she gave it only a few bites, arguing that she had to be kidding, others asking if she was on a diet. She slapped a smile on when Sana grabbed a piece of raddish and put in front of her mouth and ate it. 

She could feel more and more disgust with each bite she took, but she didn't have the heart to turn Sana away, since she seemed so happy with feeding her (one of the things she couldn't understand about her). In no time her stomach started hurting, feeling like a roaring sea whose waves crashed violently onto the sand. Her mind seemed foggy, until...

She slapped the table as she got up, running to the bathroom and ignoring the calls after her. Just in time, she puked all the contents of her stomach on the toilet bowl, her body shaking at the weakness she suddenly felt.

Round after round, she continued vomiting, feeling in between rounds a person, whose hands held her hair and her back, patting her softly. Distant voices were heard, but she paid no heed to it, collapsing against the body behind her. The body spoke, but Momo couldn't understand.

What she could understand, however, was the mocking voice of him as he looked at her crunched over figure on the floor. Her face felt dirty, and her cheeks filled with tears for the bad she had supposedly done.

"We can't have you getting fat. We don't want people to stop coming to visit us, do we?"

Feeling another kick to her stomach, she screamed, pleading for forgiveness. No, we don't. No, we don't.

His smile was cruel, his expression drunken with power and strength. He stepped on her stomach until she felt her insides were imploding, and she wasn't sure whether what she felt was vomit or blood.


	6. Sana

Despite the sociological truth of humans being gregarious beings, she was one to prefer solitude. She couldn’t really remember a time when she really enjoyed the company of others, not that said company was pleasant enough for her to enjoy.

When the rowdy group of trainees came into her life, she stood by them, reluctantly (“you have to make, friends,” that asshole’s words rung in her head), and withstood the fact that she wouldn’t be alone anymore, as if they were chaperones of some sorts, inviting her everywhere, and inviting themselves into her own business.

However, now, as she lay in bed, the events past moments ago (she’s not aware how much time passed), and a worried Sana sitting at the corner of the bed, she felt nothing but a ferocious need of not having to see another human being. No, not just any human being, THEM. Her throat raw, and her mind in a disarray, she could only think of one phrase to answer Sana’s question. 

“Leave me alone.”

But no, Sana, being Sana, would not leave her alone. Instead, she would smile, sadly, sympathetically, and would be sitting there, unmoved by Momo’s callous tone.

“Peachy, it’s not bad to feel bad,” she would say, patting her leg. She flinched at her touch, and felt immediate remorse when Momo saw the hurt flashing through her clear eyes.

Why couldn’t she leave her alone? Why couldn’t she just get out of her life?

She wanted to. She wanted so badly to lash out at Sana.

Just leave! I don’t need any of you! Why don’t you understand that?

I don’t need you…

But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. It’s as if an invisible being stopped Momo from screaming at her, from hurting the only person that has confused her as much as she has. Her idealisms wouldn’t break her, Momo would, if she screamed what was at the top of her mind, the words that she had screamed alone in that closet, when he left her there, alone and unwanted, unfed and humiliated.

Instead, she sat up, and, as soon as Sana was within reach, she held her hand.

Every part of her body was in overdrive, her hand burned, and her mind spinned, telling her to get away, to push, to run, to jump where the darkness is.

But she didn’t.

With all the strength left in her being, she held onto Sana’s hand.

And, it seemed she understood, even when she didn’t have a smile on her face to prove.

She looked at Momo straight in the eye, and the thought of Sana looking the most mature she has ever crossed the back of Momo’s mind, but she paid no heed. What she was focused on was in Sana’s eyes, that is, until the owner of those eyes herself engulfed her in a hug.

It came out of nowhere, and yet, she expected it. It was just so Sana. So confusing, so warm, so comforting, so sweet. And she melted.

Sana patted her back, humming a song with her dulcet tone, while Momo choked back tears, containing the sobs lodged in her throat the best she could. No questions, no inquiries, no words.

“Come on, they’re waiting for us.”

The project was already finished, and everything was tidy, not a spot of the humongous amount of food they had ordered.

Nobody mentioned anything about the incident. Instead, they decided to watch Grease while they laughed at the stupidity of the plot, and, for once, Momo agreed with them, hiding signs of amusement of their commentary between her hands.

When she was alone again, her apartment empty, she acknowledge that her heart had cracked, and she didn’t know if it would be for the better or for worse.


	7. Mina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure you read chapter 6 before this one :3

Momo didn’t usually spend time one on one with anyone other than Sana. There were exceptions, of course, but for the most part whenever Momo saw them, they were all together. It was fine, except for the fact that they could be rowdy as fuck, a fact that she couldn’t get used to even now.

However, there was one other girl, aside from Sana, that didn’t irritate her as often as the rest. Mina.

Mina was, actually, despite her demure appearance and gummy smile, very mature, always hiding behind her shyness the wisdom that sometimes earned some jokes from the rest. Her eyes were also guarded, a quality that Momo hadn’t seen much in teens her age other than the kids she had met before when she was homeless. 

She seemed like the kind of person who shouldered her own grievances alone, but in return, she shut like a clam. Momo could see the many times she would open her mouth to say something, but would immediately close it again. For that alone, she felt some kind of understanding for the girl, even if it was probably one sided, thought she wouldn’t put it past Mina to already have made some deductions about her.

There was one time where Momo was assured of her own thoughts of the girl. She had been walking along the Han river, gazing at the dying lights of the city, when the people, either blue-collared workers, or party animals, ended their days to then enter into the things that would torture them or imbue them with life.

Surprising for her, Mina was there too, in a place a little far from any kind of human life at this unholy hour, which made Momo think (no, not worry) for a moment that someone could’ve taken her, and no one would’ve known. People said that this was a very safe city, but she didn’t buy it. There was no place where crime didn’t exist, especially in a country whose one of the biggest incomes comes from the sex industry.

Anyways, she had been sitting down the ledge, her legs swinging, her face in deep thought. It had been so peaceful a scene, Momo didn’t feel like interrupting. Leaving was not an option. Despite her best wishes, Mina had seen her, and with a minute movement of her hand, invited her to sit next to her on the ledge.

Ignoring the nausea that the ledge (and the river) induced her, she did as she was asked, sitting as slowly and as quietly as she possibly could, asking herself why did it matter so much to her that the serenity of this place remained intact.

Momo didn’t say anything, although she felt a prick of curiosity about Mina’s whereabouts when she could be sleeping (she knows that if she could sleep she would). The ball was in Mina’s court, and, surprisingly, she hit it, sending it back to Momo.

“What are you doing here?” the girl asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Taking a little walk,” Momo answered nonchalantly, “You?”

“Just thinking for a bit.” She hummed in understanding, but didn’t say anything else.

“Have you ever felt trapped? Like there was something that you must do, even if there’s another option?” Mina asked pensively, her eyes, devoid of any shame that shone during the day, looking at Momo as if she had a deep answer to whatever was worrying her.

“I… guess,” Momo answered slowly, mentally shooing away the memories that always threatened to come out. Mina’s eyes dimmed a little, but she didn’t back down.  
“And what did you do then?”

“I... I suppose I went with what I had to do,” her eyes stung a little. “What’s on your mind?” she asked, hoping to deflect Mina’s attention from her own problems. Mina’s countenance hitched, her face becoming one of surprise, as if she hadn’t expected Momo’s question, and she couldn’t blame her.

“Can you… Could you please not tell any of the girls?” Mina pleaded, to which Momo nodded resolutely, seeing the panic and the fear take place in her expression, as if she was finally waking to a nightmare.

“I… I’ve been afraid for quite some time. When I first came here, I only thought about my own teenage dreams. Being a singer seemed so easy then, like a dream, like a getaway. But I arrived here, and then everything was training. Nothing was stable, and I wasn’t a constant. Singing, dancing… just, debuting… weren’t a given. I have to win it, and sometimes it just seems far away.” The girl stopped, taking a deep breath that she then released it shakily, as if trying to take control of herself.

“I know I shouldn’t. I know I can’t. It would be so dirty of me to…” her eyes filled with tears, filling Momo with a sense of discomfort, as if she ought to feel pain for Mina. She awkwardly patted the other girl’s back, hoping to decrease her discomfort, and, if possible, eliminate the tears that threatened to fall from Mina’s angelic face. It took her a while to speak again.

“Everything was suffocating me, but there was this guy, a senior from our company. He was so nice to me, and it felt like I could trust someone,” Mina stopped, glanced back at Momo, her eyes still teary, as if expecting a reaction (a negative one, if Momo wasn’t mistaken). “There are some things about myself that I didn’t feel comfortable talking about with Sana,” she explained when she saw no change in her countenance. “But he seemed so open, so understanding, that he knew what I was going through, and I trusted him. As we became closer, he confessed to have feelings for me, and I accepted him.” Mina breathed a few times, as if she felt extreme pain. “But these days, he’s been saying that I should do what girlfriends do, that he’s so stressed after promotions and he needs me.” At those words, Momo’s mind started reeling, connecting the dots quickly.

“No!” Momo said immediately, her grave voice giving an ultimatum, effectively shutting Mina up. “No, Mina, whatever he’s telling you, it’s not true. You shouldn’t. If you don’t want to, you shouldn’t.”  
“But he’ll leave me if I don’t,” she said, the first tears running down her cheeks. “I need him, Momo. I need him! There’s no one else that has understood me the way he has.”

“He doesn’t. He doesn’t understand you. If he did, he would know that you don’t want to, and he would respect that.”

“But what if it is true? What if he’s exhausted? What if he needs me?”

“He doesn’t need you.” Mina’s face crumbled at her words, a sob leaving. “And you don’t need him either. You don’t need someone like that.”

“You don’t know him,” Mina responded defensively.

“I have met many people like that in my life, Mina. None of them had good intentions,” Momo thought back bitterly to her days as a prostitute. “They might treat you well, but there is always, always, an underlying reason. They’ll never be satisfied, and they’ll want more from you, everything that you can give, until you’ve given your all, until you’re left empty.”

Mina didn’t respond for a moment, seemingly digesting her words.

“Do you really think he’s like that?”

“You’re smart, Mina. Don’t fool yourself.” Mina started full on crying, her body shaking as sobs left her body. Momo, unable to think on anything else to do, she did what Sana did when she had passed out that day at her apartment. It wasn’t the most ideal situation for her, but at the core, she understood Mina’s plea. A need to feel needed. Like you weren’t a waste. Like you weren’t a piece of shit. Like you could be of use to someone.

They stayed in an embrace for what seemed hours, until Mina separated, her eyes now puffy and vulnerable, but dry.

“What has happened to you?” she asked softly, but inquisitively. Momo felt the instant urge to close up (the same she felt like with anyone except Sana), but decided against it, knowing that at some point, Mina had confided in her, when she wouldn’t even confide in Sana, her best friend.

“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you,” she instead said, a small smile forcing her way through her lips.

“Believe me, I would. Anyone would, if they went with how you look.”

“How I look?” Momo asked, raising an eyebrow. Mina smiled despite herself.

“You know, you think you hide yourself so easily, but you’re wrong. Everything about you screams that you have through tough shit.”

“Everything, huh?” Momo murmured, not knowing how to answer, thoughts popping in her head like little bubbles.

“So, if you, you know, have something bothering you and you don’t want to tell your girlfriend, tell me. I’ll extend the courtesy of having to stand you,” Mina said after a silence, smirking.  
“I’ll be sure to remember that.”


	8. Jihyo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm not sure if I've given you the chronological order of the chapters, but the order goes like this:  
> Chapter 1
> 
> Chapter 2
> 
> Chapter 3
> 
> Chapter 4
> 
> Jeongyeon
> 
> Sana
> 
> Jihyo
> 
> Mina

Shame was something Momo was unfamiliar with. In fact, it was a feeling the people she was surrounded with through her life were unfamiliar with, and, as a result, she did too.

 

Fear, sure. Remorse, absolutely. But face-coloring shame? Embarrassment? Not really. The last time she had felt it was the first time she was demanded to act for one of his clients. Her face had felt so hot when she was obliged to say filthy shit in the most innocent voice she could muster. It had felt ridiculous.

 

Now, though, the shame she felt at the thought of showing weakness to the rest of the girls only grew as time passed by.

 

When they had finally left that day, she just slammed her head onto the coffee table, not caring about the searing pain she experienced immediately after.

 

What was she thinking?

 

 _You weren’t thinking._ A voice inside her head told her, and although she knew it to be true, she only told that voice to shut the fuck up.

 

Weakness was unacceptable. She had learned that through her time with him, through every client she ever had to be with. Weakness was just a weapon to use, a weapon that wasn’t probably used immediately, but it would be used nonetheless, and to hit you until you were down, until all you could see was red.

 

But why had she ever permitted herself to be weak with them? She had softened, she finally recognized. But no matter how much she recognized it, her mind refused to harden again, to her frustration.

 

So, she avoided them.

 

They had some classes together, but she would often enter until last moment, right before the professor did, and would sit on the leftover chair, often in the front. She felt the stares from Nayeon and Jeongyeon, but she acted disingenuously, leaving immediately after the class was over, hiding herself in the bathroom in the meanwhile and hating herself for it. It was a definite hit to her pride.

 

It wasn’t until lunch, right after successfully evading Sana, something that made her feel, if a little, proud, that she was met with one of the girls. However, different from what she had pictured in that scenario, she had found the girl.

 

It had been recess when she decide to roam the hallways, trying hard to evade any of the girls, when she heard music, an angelic singing voice accompanying it.

 

She had entered, against her better judgement (she was definitely becoming a softie), and was met with quite a sight.

 

There she was, her eyes closed, her expression serene, her body reflecting the rays of sunshine that passed through the window. It seemed to her as if Jihyo was born to shine.

 

The serenity in her face disappeared when her eyes opened and met with Momo’s, but the serenity wasn’t replaced with the irritation Momo would have if she was in her shoes, but with an expression she couldn’t quite place, as if welcoming, but also calculating. Calculating what? She didn’t know.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Ah, hi,” Momo answered unsurely, all the while trying to take steps back to leave. “Sorry, I’ll just...”

 

“No, actually, I want some audience right now. Could you stay for a moment?”

 

“I mean- you seemed pretty okay alone,” the brunette answered bluntly.

 

“Once in a while you need criticism to get better, no?”

 

“Ah, I don’t know shi- anything about music.”

 

“That’s fine.” Momo felt the unspoken _I wasn’t expecting you to,_ and had the mind to feel some kind of offense, but she couldn’t blame Jihyo. She wasn’t training to be a singer, after all.

 

“Alright,” she nodded awkwardly as she sat on one of the chairs of the music room. There were several instruments there, but none were being used by Jihyo.

 

“So, what’s your favorite music?” the younger girl asked as she sat in a chair opposite hers.

 

“Ah, uhm, I don’t have any.” Jihyo arched an eyebrow.

 

“So you like many genres?”

 

“I don’t really listen to music much,” Momo answered, and that was the truth. Most of the music she had heard in her life hadn’t been a choice of hers.

 

“No? I kinda pegged you as a metal listener.”

 

“Hah.”

 

“So, why don’t you like music?”

 

“It’s not that I don’t like music. It’s just that... Well, it never seemed important to listen to music.”

 

“Well,” Jihyo started patiently, her face now settled in the same expression she held when Momo first entered the room. “Music is important. It can be an expression of your soul, either something artistic or something more relaxed, like when you sing to a ballad when you're sad, or a pop song when you’re jamming with your friends.” The younger’s face twitched a bit in disbelief when she saw the cluelessness painted in Momo’s face.

 

“Is there a song that you like?”

 

“Well, I... don’t know.” Momo, for the second time this day, felt ashamed at the thought of that obscure song she could barely remember back when she took Renato the amusement park. It had felt like happiness, or the closest thing she had ever felt, something a little less close to everlasting despair. But she couldn’t tell Jihyo that.

 

“Well, let’s sing something then.” Momo’s eyes widened.

 

“Are you crazy? I don’t know how to sing!”

 

“I’ll help you, come on. I’d say I’ll let you choose the song, but I guess not.” Momo shook her head in panic, but Jihyo only smiled and gestured more towards her. “Come on!”

 

The brunette finally got up when the red-haired girl grabbed her hand and pulled her to her side, where her cellphone rested upon the unplugged keyboard.

 

“It’s quite old, but... Did you like the song I was singing?”

 

“I guess,” she mumbled.

 

“Well, here are the lyrics. Just follow me.”

 

Momo ended up just listening to the younger girl through the whole song. There was something that made her feel numb as she read the lyrics, Jihyo’s voice filling her with something akin to... dread? Something completely overwhelming.

 

“Hey, you left me singing al- oh.” She felt a thumb cleaning the tear she hadn’t felt rolling through her cheek. “I suppose this is too difficult to sing, sorry.” But Momo just turned her head, not understanding what Jihyo truly meant, her mind still clouded with numbness, the only word in her head appearing everywhere like a swarm of bees, hurting her everywhere.

 

“Let’s sing something better. Have you heard Uptown Funk?” The brunette just shook her head, still fighting within herself to not run away. Why was she even fighting anyway? She should have just left since the beginning. She should’ve just stayed alone. She shouldn’t have met them. She shouldn’t have met Sana.

 

She turned around, walking speedily towards the exit, but a hand grabbed onto her wrist, and she looked to turn at a worried Jihyo.

 

“Wait. Wait. Don’t leave.” But Momo shook her head, trying to get her arm free, but Jihyo’s grip was too tight for Momo to get out of without injuring the former.

 

Jihyo sighed. “Okay, okay. But can you promise me something?” Momo nodded hurriedly, wanting to just leave, get away.

 

“Can you come back next week?” Momo just nodded, sighing in relief when Jihyo let her arm go.

 

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck._

 

She didn’t attend other classes, nor she called her driver, deciding to run the whole ten blocks to her apartment.

 

It was the first time in a while that she had actually teared some of her hair off in desperation, her mind running a mile a minute, stopping herself from destroying her living room.

 

It was just stupid music. Why was she like this? Music was nothing but an accessory, a mood maker when she was working, an annoyance she had to deal with for a while, strident bass and ear-grating voices.

 

But this? It made her feel like she was drowning. Like her senses were turning off, but at the same time she felt too sensitive. Too grounded in reality, but at the same time too unattached.

 

She wouldn’t cry. Damn her. Damn Jihyo. Damn Sana.

 

In a fit of rage (or whatever the hell she was feeling, she couldn’t quite understand), her fist struck the wall, making a small hole.

 

She ended not attending classes the rest of the week.


End file.
